The Woman In Red
by omgringo
Summary: Ringo's night goes from bad to worse when a seductive woman drugs him. Heavy language and implied sex references.


**(Hello, it's me again. I adore Ringo and I just fancied torturing him with this. Nothing too graphic but there is some heavy language and implied sex references. Originally published on my Wattpad account. I'll update Don't Ever Change soon, but for now you can feast on this. Please don't forget to leave a review! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy.)**

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><p>The man brought the lighter close to the dangling cigarette between his lips and watched the end glow a bright ember. He took a breath, feeling the thick smoke cloud in his lungs, and exhaled. He watched the taller man, his sharp, aquiline nose like a dagger on his face, quickly shuffle past him. His light hair was matted to his head from the sweat on his brow, much like Ringo's himself.<p>

The drummer, from his seat on the edge of the bar, surveyed the crowded night club with frowning eyes. The hot air stuck close to his skin like it was apart of him. In the dim light of the club he saw George's sunken face shine out like a beacon and Paul's bright eyes glint like diamonds. He watched John's skeletal hands make their way down some bird's hips and to her thighs while he nibbled at her lips like a hungry animal.

Richard felt a little out of place, like an undertaker at a wedding. He often found joy in dancing and partying but today he couldn't shake the nerves, even more so when he felt the velvety softness of a cool hand graze his cheek. He turned on his stool.

"Not enjoying yourself, baby?" A sultry voice blew soft and cool into his ear, made him shudder. The voice belonged to a pair of plush, cherry lips and sapphire eyes, curtained by a head of sheen, mahogany hair. Ringo admired her beauty.

"No, unfortunately," he said in reply.

"Maybe I could make it better," Richard was so focused on those plump lips he didn't feel her take his hand and place it on her chest, running his fingers over her breasts and over the silk of the scarlet dress she wore.

Lust, like a strong grip, took hold of him all of a sudden. His manhood gave a pulse. He realised and snatched back his hand in shock, despite the animal inside growling for him to claim her.

"I-I'm sorry?" Ringo said with a husky voice.

She stole the cigarette from his fingers and took a long, seductive drag. Her lipstick left its blood-red mark after she plucked it from her mouth and returned it to his. He gave a puff and through the smoke he saw her smile.

"I'm surprised, Mr Starr," saying his name, in that dark, silky voice made him almost wince with longing, "no man has ever questioned my advances. I thought I wouldn't have to beg."

Those blue eyes, Ringo could only describe them as starving, burrowed deep into his own. Her long fingers danced along his tie like tinkling the keys on a piano.

"Please," she gave a pout, a malicious one.

Ringo's eyes slowly looked over to his friends. John, still "entertaining" himself with the girl, Paul now had a bird straddled on his lap, lips locked together furiously, and George, embraced in a feverish kiss with a red-head. Ringo was the only Beatle currently uninvolved with a woman... for now.

However, his attention was grabbed, literally, when he felt a hand grope his thigh.

"I'm over here, big boy," she said, "and I want some loving.

"M-My friends-"

"Are taken care of. Look at you, honey, all tense. Let me get you a drink to calm your nerves." The woman leaned over the bar and asked for a hard whiskey. Ringo turned his head over to John, as if he would whisk him away from this girl. He couldn't deny she was attractive, beautiful even, but in a devious way; a dangerous way. But John had his tongue halfway down the throat of another bird.

"Here," the cool palm pressed light against his cheek and a glass was thrust into his free hand. "A good drink will make it all better,"

Richard looked down at the drink and back at the woman, "I didn't even catch your name," he said.

She gave a sly smile. "Never mind that, drink up."

He eyed her warily, before bringing the glass to his lips and throwing the whiskey to the back of his throat. A good clean corner of his worries, and his sobriety, was shaved off quickly.

"Better?"

Ringo had to grin, why was he being so serious? "A lot better,"

"Good," she said, revealing a pearly white smile under those cherry lips. Her eyes gleamed as she moved closer. Richard felt her nails draw circles on his chest. "Where were we?"

"I wanna dance," Richard said.

"But we're having fun here, aren't we?" She held his tie a little tighter, like he was a dog on a chain. Her eyes widened, only slightly. To Ringo's increasingly fuzzy mind it wasn't noticeable.

The drummer had a fire flowing through his veins, a restless leg, a clouded vision. He needed to get up and do something- he felt loose.

"Come on, let's dance," he grabbed her wrist and pushed through the crowd to where others were gathered. His movements were a little slow, but he was enjoying himself. This was a good feeling- he felt good. Really good.

"That's enough now, baby, let's get another drink, yeah?" The woman said. Ringo almost didn't hear her. He followed her, her dog on the chain, back to the bar. He felt a bit woozy.

Looking around, he saw George pass him with the fiery red-head. Then, Paul. They'd both pulled of course. They always did.

He turned back, a spinning blur of colours and lights, and saw the nameless woman nestle her hands over the glass and with squinting eyes he saw something dissolve.

He tugged at John's sleeve when the auburn-haired man passed by, too confused to comprehend, but John had pulled. He was the bird's prey now, and left the drummer alone.

"Oh Mr Starr," she called, a call barely heard through the loud music and chatter but one Ringo couldn't ignore. She held out the whiskey in a manicured hand, like it was the forbidden fruit itself. The smile of hers was one of sexual malice. He found himself walking towards her, his mind, fighting for coherency, screaming no but his manhood twitching and aching yes.

"You put somethin' in this?" He asked, looking down into the alcohol like it was a black lagoon; a whirlpool of drug-induced nightmares.

She pushed it into his hands, eager to see him lift it to his lips and drink but irritated when he didn't. "Just something to help you unwind, baby; you're paranoid, making accusations."

"I'm not accusin', I saw you-"

She leaned in close until their bodies touched. Ringo could feel her breasts pushed against his shirt and felt a throb down below.

"Please," she said, "for me."

Richard shrugged. Why not? He never had fun when he was sober anyway. He choked a gulp down, "Did you put somethin' in the other one too?"

The smile was back, a Fox-like, devilish smile. "Maybe,"

The last drop was slightly gritty and bitter in his mouth. She had definitely put something in his drink, and he had willingly obeyed her, just for the promise of some sort of sexual gratification. He regretted it for a moment, but only for that one moment, before a drowsiness descended over him like a mist. His legs felt awfully heavy.

The woman, with her red lips glowing in the dim light and her angelic face fastly growing fuzzy, smiled. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Before Richard knew it, he was being led out of the club, a cool hand gripped in his. The room spun.

"J-John?" He called. No answer.

He couldn't see straight, and they stepped out into the street. The night air was cold on his face, the pavement, a damp sheen, glittered like diamonds under the street lamps as they walked. He could hear cars driving past but couldn't see them clearly. His eyelids were dead weights drooping over his orbs. Hunched over, he shuffled along.

He looked up suddenly. They were in a hotel room. Had he passed out for a minute? He didn't remember getting here.

He could see a hazy outline in the darkness and soon it was above him. "You've been stressed all evening, Mr Starr." A husky laugh. A warm breath dancing along his ear. His shirt slowly unbuttoned with long, cold fingers. He shivered.

He wanted to say something, but his tongue felt thick in his mouth. His brain, rushing with memories and tactics, felt wrapped in cotton wool. The fight or flight instinct bubbled down to nothingness, so instead he gave a groan, moved his arm with all his strength only to have it pushed down to his side once again.

"Don't fight it, baby," the voice said; it didn't even belong to a face anymore. "I've got you."

He felt himself being lifted up for a moment, then dropped back down on the mattress. His shirt was gone, the button on his trousers slowly popping open. The belt buckle tossed to the floor clattered in his ears. He felt a trail of hot, wet kisses make their way down his stomach.

"Wha... what are y-you," he whispered. He was ready to close his eyes and drift off when all became silent, but suddenly felt his member jolt. His orbs shot open. With his chin on his chest he saw her peeking up at him and that devilish smile as she wrapped her icy fingers around his manhood.

"Stop..." Ringo said. She shook her head no and began to work on him. The drummer tipped his head back.

He felt tired, and with a sigh, closed his eyes, and felt sleep take hold of him.

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><p>Ringo Starr opened his eyes when he heard the door slam. He scrubbed a hand down his face as the morning light filtered through the window. His head rung. Nails drilled through his skull. This was one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had.<p>

Then he remembered.

The drummer looked around. Hotel room, clothes scattered along the floor, including his underwear. He got off the bed and shuffled along, slipping them on. When he had put his trousers on he noticed his watch was missing from his wrist. His rings were gone, too.

"Shit..."

He quickly searched through his coat. No wallet. Everything was gone.

He'd been robbed. That woman had drugged him and robbed him!

And he'd helped her.

It was just as much his fault as it was hers.

The second thing he did was look around the room, to see if the woman had left anything behind in her rush to get away with his stuff. He noticed the clock on the wall read 9:00 am. And then he saw the note on the bedside table.

It was small, elegant writing. He spoke aloud, without realising, still groggy from the drugs coursing through his system.

"Thought I'd let myself out. You were a good fuck, one of the best, just wish you had been awake for a little longer. Thanks for the jewellery.

Love, the woman in red..."

Ringo studied the note for a few moments before scrunching it up in his fist and hurling it across the room. He put his head in his hands.

"I'm a bloody idiot," he moaned.

The drummer stood and paced. He didn't even know where his shoes were. He had to call one of the lads; God knows where they fucked off to last night. He put on his coat and walked down to the front desk. The marble floor was cold on his toes.

"Do you know which hotel I'm in?" He asked, and the clerk looked at him like he had two heads.

"The Highbury, Mr Starr."

"Oh..." he looked down for a moment, "do you happen to have any shoes I can borrow?"

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><p>He felt his stomach doing somersaults as he sat in the back of the taxi. He wanted to heave his guts out but he didn't have any money to pay the driver for cleaning services if he did so. So he kept quiet and tried to focus his hazy eyes on the shapes of people passing by. He almost yelled when he saw her.<p>

The woman in red. She walked down the street, fingers curled around her clutch bag, probably filled with his valuables.

"Stop!" He yelped, and the driver slammed on the breaks. In a flash he was out of the door and with heavy legs he ran to her.

When he grabbed the sleeve of her dress, she gasped. "Hey-"

Both eyes were wide, one pair unfocused and bloodshot, the other watery with panic.

"You took me stuff," he huffed, "I want it back. I have right mind to call the police on you."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know who you are!" She yelled back, and it drew the attention of people passing by.

"It's Ringo Starr!"

"A real Beatle!?"

Screams. Shrieks. Soon he was surrounded, and he saw her smile an walk away just as he was engulfed by fans.

Despite how beautiful she was, Ringo noticed, she had a very ugly smile.


End file.
